Dynamite
by RacRules
Summary: Felix and Calhoun were perhaps the most unusual of the arcade's couples. No one would expect them to fall in love, least of all themselves. In these oneshots, they come together and step out of their programmed comfort zones-as strangers, tentative lovers and even Litwick's oddest of marriages.
1. Tammy

**I just saw Wreck-It-Ralph and AHHHHH. SO CUTE. Felix/Calhoun was the cutest of all, but I knew that from before the movie. I've been wanting to write a fic of them for ages, but I wanted to wait until I saw it so I could relate it to events in the movie. **

**I'll probably have a few oneshots for this story, all centered around Felix/Calhoun (because that's the kind of writer I am) so stay tuned!**

* * *

"So…m'am…" Felix finally said, barely above a mumble.

"Fix-it," the Sergeant replied, clear and crisp through the bustle of the game characters rushing back to their games for opening time.

Felix blushed at her address; his steps through Game Central Station grew shorter and his fingers wrung together. His bright eyes gazed up at her, hardly blinking. Calhoun, on the other hand, walked coolly and relaxed, long legs making wide strides past the much smaller characters hurrying past and face in a strangely pleasant, if not quite smiling, expression. Lost from both of their minds was Ralph, trailing behind them in a somewhat confused stupor.

What _had _happened between those two when they were looking for him? He wondered silently. Of all the new concepts introduced to him recently, this was perhaps one of the strangest: Felix, the Sergeant, and an apparent _romance? _These things didn't happen in the world of Fix-It-Felix. Relationships don't change much. But nonetheless, he stayed quiet. Whatever they went through, they'd tell him in time.

"You, uh, kissed me." There was a question in Felix's voice, as if he needed confirmation that the moment truly happened; she smirked, though deep beneath her armor Calhoun couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

"That I did," she simply replied, voice level.

It was a complete and utter defiance of her programming, kissing him. Everything about the tumbled up, twisted lightness that ran through her stomach every time she glanced at his big pleading eyes and reddened cheeks—honey glow, as he called it—was a complete defiance of her programming. She wasn't supposed to feel anything like that for anyone except…

_Brad, _she thought, _Brad is supposed to be my purpose. _

There it was—the thought of Brad. She remembered his face, his eyes, his smile, his voice. She remembered "dynamite gal" and his wedding proposal and _everything. _She waited for a sharp knife of pain to cut through her current content.

And it did, it did cut. But not…_that _hard.

Hm.

This wasn't right, at least not from a programmer's point of view. She shouldn't be _capable _of moving on. Brad was her _one_, her _only_. He was supposed to haunt her for the rest of her existence, to drive her until her game was unplugged. But despite everything, despite every zero and one telling how she should feel—that she should walk away from Felix right then and there, scorn him for even thinking he could heal her broken heart—she ignored them. But why?

She took one look down at him, staring up at her the way he was, and she knew. Because he was real. He was _there_. Him, his feelings for her, and her growing feelings for him were more than just a backstory and a memory. In the end, she may never truly get over Brad. This she knew and this she will just have to accept. He was written into the deepest depths of her code that can't change without altering her game drastically, and after this experience she'd be damned if she was going to let that happen. However, that didn't mean that somewhere in there, there wasn't a heart that could love on its own too, and no matter how unfamiliar, maybe even scary (though, she quickly vowed to herself, she would never admit to it being so) it was she could let it. She _would_ let it.

"As I remember," Calhoun mused, "you kissed me first." Calhoun smiled down at Felix, and to her surprise, instead of blushing even more meekly he smiled back at her, wide as she'd ever seen, and there was an odd fluttering in her armored chest.

"I suppose I did, m'am." He fiddled with his hat, smile only growing wider.

Ralph loudly cleared his throat. "Well, I had to, um, intrude but…Felix, we're back at our game. Should we go in or do you want to…?"

"O-oh yes! Yes," Felix sputtered, straightening his cap and shirt, "you're right!"

Ralph stepped past them and, with a sigh of uncertainty, reentered Fix-It-Felix Jr. Felix glanced over to him with a tinge of sympathy; how was his life and relationships with the others in the building going to lead? Ralph was a brave fellow. No one could ever, ever say otherwise.

"I-I guess I better go. It's been a long day," Felix scratched the back of his head and gave a sheepish look up. "So long, Sergeant Calhoun."

Calhoun shook her head just slightly and, with a moment's thought, bent down to his level and laid a kiss on his forehead.

"My first name is Tamora," she whispered, "Tammy for short." With that, she stood and turned, walking with the same cool demeanor back to her own game.

"Tamora…" Felix let the name roll off his tongue, and despite his efforts to hide them 8-bit hearts formed in the air as he watched her go.

Suddenly, Ralph popped his head out from the door to their game. "Felix, you coming?"

The hearts popped. Felix blinked twice, gasping for words until he spun around.

"R-right! Go home! Good idea!" Felix stumbled back over the threshold. His eyes never left Calho—_Tamora's _retreating back until he boarded the tiny rickety train.


	2. Warmth

**The world building game I mentioned here was actually planned for the film but eventually scrapped. I figured it would be a world where friends or couples with incompatible worlds would meet.**

**Also, I apologize in advance…but this is a four day weekend and that's why I could pump out these oneshots so quickly. This unfortunately will not be the norm. Also, next one will definitely be more "action-y" and less contemplative. These will jump around in their timeline depending on my inspiration, but I'll try to make it clear when they are.**

* * *

Of all things Felix knew about his Tammy, probably the least expected was that she was a cuddler.

He supposed most people were, even those made of pixels. There's only so much lying on cold, hard military cots one can take before one strives for softness and physical contact. So, his Tamora, his sharp tongued, violent, quick witted Tamora, the woman who could part Game Central Station as she walked through with a single glare, who fearlessly commanded a team of men ten times his size and could stare down a giant clawed bug without so much as a blink of an eye, who's first instinct when confronted or surprised was to grab her gun and let the bullets fly, was curled around tiny him and huddled into the sheets of the largest bed he'd ever been in. It was only with him that she removed her heavy black armor for more casual wear (usually still military-issue workout gear) and so that was what he was feeling now; her stomach was firm with muscle, but her arms were gentle and her chest was soft and she was oh so warm and he loved it.

They were in Extreme Easy Living 2, a world building game that also served as something as a hotel for other residents of the arcade. Neither Fix-It-Felix Jr. nor Hero's Duty were suitable for both of them, so sometimes after long days at work they met outside his game and, after a few drinks at Tapper, stargazing in the nearest fantasy RPG, and very, very pleasant kissing, they tucked in for the night in one of the mansions of this game and enjoyed each other's presence. When morning came and the arcade was about to open, they woke up, kissed a little more, rode the trains out, and reluctantly said their goodbyes before parting to their respective games.

Those that lived inside games didn't really need to sleep, but that didn't mean they didn't enjoy it. Still, Felix lay awake. He wasn't quite ready to sleep yet, instead quite preoccupied by his wife's face. He turned just slightly in her arms, not enough to wake her up, and studied her features—her naturally long lashes (each defined and thin with her spectacular high definition) were gently closed over her blue eyes which could be spine-chillingly intense or heart-meltingly lovely depending on her mood, her lips (oh, how he loved kissing them) were slightly open and letting out gently, even breaths, her hair ruffled just a bit but still so smooth and shiny in the moonlight…he could go on for ages.

Gosh darnit (he had to use strong language for her), she was beautiful.

"I love you," he murmured. She stirred but didn't wake, and he turned once more so that they were spooned again.

He was so, so lucky.

Of course, anyone could see that. Just look at him, and…look at _her. _She was magnificent. He was old and 8-bit, nuthin' special. They got looks walking through Game Central Station for the first few weeks, and as the gossip of their marriage spread through the arcade like wildfire (weddings, particularly inter-game weddings, were rarities) the phrase he overheard most often was something along the lines of "Them? Really? Good ol' Felix, how did he manage _that_?" Characters from newly plugged in games usually did a double take (or two) when he pointed them to who his wife was. More than once, the meaner ones (usually male) accused him of lying. He figured that wouldn't change.

He had mentioned that, offhand, to Tammy once. She had replied in her distinctive manner "Those tongue-flapping wastes of pixels wouldn't know their kickable behinds from their drooling faces. Don't concern yourself." He felt awfully bad about it, but the comment _did _make him feel better.

"What are you smiling about?" said a sleepy voice from above him.

"You."

"Psh. Right." She ran a hand through her hair before absentmindedly twining it in his, rubbing small circles into his scalp. "Now what are you really smiling about?"

"I told you, you!" He leaned into her hand—gee, it was soothing—and closed his eyes, letting out a muted sigh from his closed-mouth smile. "What else could I be smiling like this about?"

He could hear her grin and tut before snaking her arm around his midsection, moving her other hand to replace the last in his hair. He melted into her touch, and before long found his eyes growing heavy. Her fingers continued to massage tenderly in his hair and he was warm against her larger body, pressed in to the white cotton sheets and giving an involuntary hum from the back of his throat. A light comfort spread through his body, tingling his skin. Not a few minutes had passed that he was sound asleep.

Tamora smirked, lying her own head back down onto the pillow. Her husband…her adorable, loving, and oh-so-nice husband—far nicer than she could ever be (or want to be, for that matter. He's better at it anyway). What was she going to do with him? Retreating her hand from his hair and leaning it along the back pillow, she squeezed him just slightly more.

"I love you."

She closed her eyes and fell back asleep with him.

* * *

**OW. I think I just gave **_**myself **_**diabetes there. Bejeebus. **

**Can't say when the next one will be up, but hopefully by next weekend. **


	3. Impatience

**I. Am. So. Sorry. **

**So apparently this fic was featured in a Tumblr post (I was wondering why all of my reviewers were using Tumblr lingo) which, coupled with all of your wonderful reviews, makes me get warm squigglies all over. Thus, I got right to work on the next chapter. Which I didn't manage to finish until over a week after I promised you.**

**This was inspired by another post on Tumblr that was passed on through the Hero's Cuties tag.**

* * *

Her heart skipped a beat.

One breath, that's all she gave herself, before her finger pulled the trigger. Blasts from the guns of her soldiers burned her ears, but she kept running. A drop of sweat fell from her forehead as she fired that gun in rapid succession—_bangbangbang—_and the bugs burst into green flashes of light, one by one, in midair. Not one escaped her. Not while she lived.

"Sergeant, with all due respect, leave some for the gamer…" she, barely understanding, heard from behind her. She paid him no heed. It was their job to help the player. She was just getting them to the top of the tower faster. And she needed them to that tower faster.

"Just stay in position soldier and don't bother me." She let loose another fury of bullets with a glare in her face, both in expression and fires from the barrel. One of her men was aiming at a nearby hoard and she flew past him with her gun aloft, dissipating the screeching scorpions before he even had the chance to try.

A buzzing blared close, and before a moment passed she had spun, shooting into a swarm of gnashing flies. Glowing sickeningly green wings roared as their owners dove. Her teeth clenched and ground. She aimed, and she fired an equally swarming series of bullets, circling smoke clouding her vision but not slowing her down. The pincers barely grazed her before they exploded into a fading "100X", one after another, until the last beast fell to her (lack of) mercy. Breath ghosted on the plastic shield of her helmet. _Keep going, Tamora, keep going…you need to finish this game._

She reloaded, bullets clicking from a hidden pocket in her armor. That's all the rest she gave herself before leaping into action. One bug, five, twelve, thirty, she lost count. The world around her was lost in a daze of her fire. The glowing eyes of the cy-bugs were snuffed like flickering candles, leaving only grey darkness.

"Get moving you flivvering flock of pikers! Let's finish them off!" she shouted back to her lagging division…and the gamer, "I—we don't have all day for you to suck your thumbs!"

She briefly saw two soldiers give each other confused, wide eyed looks. "James! Carson! Something amusing you?"

"No m'am!" they blurted back.

"Good! Now get back to work before I make you!" With a flick of her wrist, she landed a shot right in the head of a bug directly behind her. "I'm getting impatient!"

The buck-toothed, pink-shirted young male gamer, left alone to shoot from the tiny robot monitor, seemed conflicted between relief (she was, admittedly, making this level much easier on him than it should be) and confusion. Tamara knew she wasn't supposed to play this active a role in the game—she was an unlocked summon in this level of battle, and may have stayed a little longer than her summon was meant to—but it wasn't like she wasn't always committed to the war and besides, he looked young. No more than ten. It wouldn't hurt anyone to make his game a little simpler.

They were in the last room of the tower before the boss, and if this kid didn't win soon she didn't know what she was going to do. She liked to believe she wasn't visibly shuddering with impatience. She knew she was probably wrong.

It was a grounded bug, yellow. Even with the canon, it would take many shots to kill. Too many. Hidden with the team at the top of a ledge, the first person shooter fumbled with his gun, and she could see a drip of sweat run down his brow. It was just then she noticed that his life meter was extremely low; he had barely a couple hit points left. He adjusted his pink cap and gripped his weapon.

The bug clicked its pincers and gave a short screech. Its antennae twitched, taking note of everyone in the massive metal room they were surrounding.

"Make a move, kid," Tamora hissed under her breath, holding back. He had to kill the last bug himself if he was going to advance. There are some things her programming just wouldn't allow. Her fingers drummed against her trigger. She heard a gulp. The bug spun to meet him. He aimed. And…

GAME OVER

The bug had shot a fast bolt of yellow no more than a fraction of a second before the boy pulled the trigger. The screen shattered with a loud _crack_, going black as a high-pitched young voice faded with a loud "Aw ma—!"

Tamora smirked—maybe this boy was beyond her help after all. She kicked out the door and looked to the sky, which stayed its smoky black, completely unbroken by the usual fiery blue stream of light. "Come on now…" Did the beam usually take this long to appear? She shot the bug before it had a chance to bite back, leaning her gun and her hip and huffing.

"Um, Sergeant?" a deep-set but timid voiced piped up from behind her, "is it just me, or did you…_really _want this game to end today?"

A ridiculous proposition. She was far too professional for that and besides, what reason would she have for wanting this game to end quickly? The beam finally shot into the sky. With a flip of her gun and a hand through her hair—now uncovered by her helmet—she straightened her body and face and stared him square in the eye.

"Just get back to base, soldier. That was the last game of the night and we're done." Tamora marched right past them and continued without looking back, "Now, I have some business to attend to. Don't know when I'll be back, but behave or I'll make sure you have more than cy-bugs to dampen your armor about."

"Yes m'a—!" was all she heard before she slammed the door.

* * *

Her eyebrow was cocked. Her fists clenched. Her body was tense, except for a single moment to flip her bangs out of her determined eyes. She left her shuttle at the edge of the blackness that was the sky of Fix It Felix Jr., wide open to allow hasty reentering.

"—erybody! That was some fantastic wreaking today too, Ralph!"

"Thanks, brother!"

"Now if you'll excuse me folks, I have an appointment with my wife tonight, and—"

"Your wife is here." Felix jumped at her voice, tripping over his feet as he ran to peer over the side of the building with his ridiculously large, shining eyes.

"Oh, hi honey!" he shouted down to her. There was a touch of tentativeness to his voice. Granted, she had her hip crooked with a fist pressed against it, and had just shouted to him her presence, so perhaps he had a reason, and if not she most certainly was about to give him one.

"Need you down here, Fix-It."

"I, uh—"

"Now."

He gulped, before abandoning the Nicelanders to hop down the windowsills to the ground. He landed with a small thump, fingers twiddling around his hammer as they always do when she is deliberately making him nervous. She clicked her pointer fingernail on her armored hip as he stepped, one after another, towards her, smile growing weaker with each moment.

"Why, Tammy! You look a little…cross, but I don't remember doin' anythi…uh, I mean—"

Tamora watched him like a hawk until the he made the final step into her arm's length. Before he could make the next one, he was yanked from the ground and into her grip and finally against her lips. She felt his hat tumble off his head when she buried her fingers in his hair, and his hammer just missed her foot as it hit the ground too. He was apparently too shocked to have much of a reaction at all.

When she decided to let him go, she leaned back from him but kept him in her hold. His eyes were wide, his mouth slacked and cheeks touched with bright red honey-glow.

"I've wanted to do that _all day_." Tamora bent down to scoop up her husband's hat and hammer before carrying him right to her shuttle, waiting open for this very purpose—they were ditching this game and the residents of this apartment won't be seeing him again anytime tonight. He tried to give an apologetic look to his co-workers, but the tip of the golden tool gently dragged him by his chin till he was again eye to eye with her. She smiled and he smiled back nervously.

"Hard day today, sweetie?"

"You have no idea."


End file.
